The Weight of a Feather
by LeapFroggy
Summary: Howard Link's encounter with Apocryphos in Allen Walker's cell goes a bit differently. Rather than kill him, the Independent Innocence comes to the conclusion that that the ex-CROW would make an excellent pawn. However, Apocryphos's plans for the Inspector are interrupted by a certain golden golem. Link wakes up in a very different world and... he's eleven?
1. Chapter 1

_What on earth...is going...on?_

"Y- KILL- -Y M-ER!"

 _Everything's distorted... I can't...hear properly. My head...isn't being ripped apart anymore?_

The intrusive presence was gone. No longer tearing his thoughts to pieces, clawing into his mind, shattering every last meager defense he tried to erect with the force of a steam engine, and making him feel like his head would explode from the invasive pressure.

"I -AW -T! - AIM-D Y- JU-G-ENT -T - -AST-R!"

No... that wasn't quite right, it wasn't _gone_. Just...inactive. Undirected.

 **"ALLEN… …TH- M-N W- TR-IN- - S-CRI-FI- -UO FOR -E FOU-ENTH!**

 _The Cardinal's voice!? No, he's no Cardinal, not even human, not with that presence. Why didn't I notice it before!? Dammit! What the hell does he want with Walker!?_

 **"I- T-ING - H-LP Y-, ALLEN."**

The Inspector forced his arms to move, to prop himself up while he tried to get his feet beneath him. When he opened his eyes, there was an odd dream like quality to his sight, made even more disorienting by the fact that he seemed to be looking through a fractured mirror. Most colors were muted, replaced almost entirely with bright, warm hues of white, gold, and black.

"T- TH-GH- - BEC-M-G ON- WITH YO-… IT MAK-S ME WANT T- VOMIT!"

Still in a daze, the blond pushed himself to his knees, before freezing as he felt movement from the foreign presence in his mind. It wasn't as forceful as before, as it was not being actively directed by that _thing_ , but it was spreading. Like creeping ivy, or frost. And his recollection of the false Cardinal's entrance to the cell was becoming hazy.

 _It said I wouldn't remember it being here… is that what's happening? How long do I have before I forget entirely!?_

 _ **"Vomit, you say?"**_

The Inspector's head shot up, snapped back into full awareness by the pure _menace_ exuded in those three words, to be greeted through his distorted vision with the sight of Allen Walker, held in place by some monstrous white humanoid radiating a truly horrifying aura of power. An expression of unbridled fury on its face as it raised its arm, intent on _damage._

 _WALKER!_

Almost before he even realized what he was doing, the Inspector was already sending a stream of spells towards the white being, hoping for all he was worth that they would be fast enough.

Time seemed to slow, as the ex-CROW watched the first spells slide between it and Walker, locking into place just as the creature's fist rammed into them, halting its forward momentum and shielding both Walker and the Noah-child that had appeared in front of him. The Mamori Bane seals overloaded from the force of the blow, fluttering uselessly to the floor, but they had bought enough time for the Shibari Bane to encircle and bind the humanoid, at least temporarily. Judging by the strength it had already exhibited, the Binding Feathers wouldn't hold it for long.

 _Where did the Noah come from!? How did they even get in here!? Scheiße! Enemy of my enemy is my friend, at least for the moment. And one of them jumped in front of Walker to protect him from that thing, so for the moment they are the lesser threat. If I'm going to lose my memory of these events, I need to at least...!_

The blond struggled to even remain kneeling, let alone stand. The backlash from the overtaxed shield spells had hit his magical core like a particularly vicious sucker punch to the gut, even the Level Three in Paris hadn't had such a violent effect. But he couldn't afford to pass out yet, he had to get Walker away from that creature. Maybe if...? The Noah were an unpredictable wild card, but at this point Walker had a better chance with them than with the monster in a Cardinal's skin.

 _Please work!_

"Tim... I'll undo your bonds."

Suppressing the pain in both his mind and magic, he began muttering the release spell for the tags binding the massive golem, while he did what he could to keep track of the situation through the hall of mirrors that had become his vision. Tim was smart, he would protect Allen from the blast, and get him out of here.

The white being had turned in its bindings to stare at the inspector, what looked like a candle protruding from its eye. To the blond's vicious satisfaction, it looked positively shocked.

 _That's right, I'm not down for the count just yet!_

 **"You! You're still—"**

"RUN FOR IT!"

Just as he ignited the En Ba flame wings on the back of the spells binding the Cardinal, the ex-CROW caught a brief glimpse of the taller Noah grabbing Walker and the smaller Noah, before they were all obscured by the explosion. Exhausted and barely able to stand in the first place, the Inspector was knocked to the ground by the blast.

As the dust cleared, he struggled to raise his head; Allen, the Noah, and the massive form of Timcanpy were nowhere in sight. Only the creature remained, still standing despite the smoke billowing off of it. Along with the shockingly intact cell…

 _There should be a hole and rubble from Tim crashing through the ceiling. Where are they, what went wrong!?_

The Inspector's attention was drawn to the far wall, as a heart shaped door faded from existence.

 _Dammit! The Noah child used one of her portals! If they had just escaped outside, he would have had a chance to get away from them and retreat back to the Order, but now... Well, if anyone can escape from wherever the Noah have taken him, it'll be Walker, hopefully he'll be able to use their disturbing fixation with him to his advantage. Good luck Walker..._

 **"You really are something, Inspector."**

Despite knowing beforehand that this would be the outcome of his actions, the ex-CROW couldn't help but tense as he became the sole focus of the monster's attention. Clenching both his fists and jaw, the Inspector let his head drop back to the ground; resigned to simply listening to the steps of the white being echo in the empty cell, as it slowly made its way over to him.

Finally, the echoes halted, as it came to a stop just in front of his head. The exhausted blond heard it release a put-upon sigh, before it grasped him by the neck and lifted, giving him his first clear look of its face. Well, as clear as it could be when he was still seeing through shattered mirrors, the effects of which only served to make its ethereal appearance seem all the more threatening.

" **Now you've done it,"** it remarked, almost blandly. As if it wasn't using the Inspectors own weight to hinder his breathing.

" **If my memory is going to be erased, I'll make him kill me to leave a trail."** It tightened its grip, allowing only enough air to remain conscious. **"That was your intention, am I correct?"**

 _The gist of it, yes, though you seem to have left out the part about helping Walker escape an enemy of unknown origin, power, and intention._ The ex-CROW thought with a grim sort of humor.

" **An extremely foolish idea, Inspector. Given the situation, anyone would conclude that the Noah, or Allen himself, had killed you. Yourself included."**

Struggling for breath, lack of oxygen adding an alarming amount of contrast to his already distorted vision, and fully aware he was about to die, the Inspector couldn't help but smile. Granted it was slightly too mocking to be called real, still, it was the closest he'd come to one in years. The cold chill of dread was still there in his stomach, but he was satisfied with the knowledge that the so-called-Cardinal was very incorrect in its assumption.

 _Do you really believe the Director won't become suspicious? He hasn't survived in Central his entire life through dumb luck and family standing alone._

The creature seemed to come to the same conclusion, as its expression darkened and the next thing out of its mouth was,

" **But HE would doubt it! Malcom C. Leverrier! He casts a doubtful eye on everything!"** It snarled through clenched teeth.

His grim facsimile of a smile still on his face the Inspector used what little air he had to choke out a reply,

"It appears that you dislike the Director… "Cardinal"."

Well, if he was going to die anyways, no point in holding his tongue.

The sarcastic response appeared to anger the white being, its lips drawing back into an even deeper scowl; but then its expression turned contemplative, before breaking into a sick imitation of what would have been a kind and welcoming smile, had it been worn by a human face.

" **He can't be suspicious of who the true killer was, if there was no death in the first place."** Its eyes closed as its grin widened. **"And I do believe you have the potential to become very useful. Leverrier does not choose his dogs lightly, and you are indeed very skilled. It isn't often that someone is able to overcome my feathers, and catch me off guard no less. And after all, "Allen" was even more troublesome than you, before I intervened, and look at what a splendid, devoted Exorcist he has grown into."**

The blond's smile had dropped when the Cardinal had revealed its own, and upon hearing its words, the ice settled in the pit of his stomach trickled up his spine; causing the shorter hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. The grip on his throat had slackened, but he found it no easier to breathe; his airways restricted no longer by the constricting hold on his neck, but by the fear of the now very real danger that there would be nothing to alert the Director, or anyone for that matter, to the existence of this creature hidden within their own ranks.

The Cardinal payed no notice to the Inspector's growing despair, its expression darkening as it stared through him, focused on something only it could see.

" **But of course, Cross couldn't help sticking his insufferable nose into things and creating a mess. Taking the boy on as his apprentice, and passing on his infuriating obstinance. I'm trying to help Allen!"**

The humanoid's grip returned to a crushing force as it was lost in its fury, only realizing it was now cutting off the ex-CROW's air supply entirely when he started to weakly raise his hands in a useless attempt to loosen the suffocating hold.

Releasing the blond to collapse to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, it returned to its original façade of benevolence and continued.

" **An irksome man to be sure, but I will not allow for such an error this time."**

 _This isn't good. Dammit, this isn't good at all! What the hell does he mean, "intervened with Walker"?_

" **Hmm, there is the unfortunate fact that completely erasing you, as I have done with others, will not work. Your usefulness originates from your skill which would be lost along with your memories. However, I cannot allow you to continue to be tainted by Director Leverrier's influence, if you are to be of any use to me at all."** It crossed one arm over its chest, and rested its chin on the hand of the other _._ **"Now, what to do?"**

Not risking any sudden movements, lest the creature turn its full attention back to him, the desperate Inspector's mind raced, trying to figure out a way to leave some clue to the true events of the evening; even as the memories of those events became increasingly difficult to recall.

 _Completely erase my memories!? And he's done this to Walker!? What on Earth is he- never mind, that can be figured out later. How can I make sure someone finds out what really happened? Walker didn't leave of his own will, he was kidnapped, but the higher-ups will surely take this as a chance to condemn him for certain, especially with how they were speaking of him earlier… If I can just leave some clue, then maybe I can at least prevent a kill-on-sight order—DAMMIT._

The ex-CROW burned with frustration at his own uselessness.

 _Goushi and Kiredori are dead, Tewaku, Tokusa, and Madarao are now considered full-fledged akuma, and there is no way the higher-ups will ever consider sparing Walker now. Not for anything less than absolute proof that he is not, nor does he contain, the Fourteenth; and even then… Walker; you idiotic, forgiving, trouble-magnet. Even if he manages to escape the Noah, he will be hunted by both them and the Order itself, not to mention this…whatever it is. And I don't have the physical or magical strength left to DO anything to stop it! There has to be a way to reveal this thing! It can't be allowed to continue to hide in the shadows of the Order!_

He ran out of time to construct a plan with the sudden exclamation and the sound of a fist hitting the palm of a hand, from above him. A hand reached down and dragged him up by the lapel of his jacket, and another landed on his forehead. For a split second, the blond felt the presence in his mind that had slowly been eating away at his memories of the evening's events, writhe to life; before his mind went blank and his vision went white with the return of the head splitting agony of before, now magnified tenfold.

* * *

" **Now, what to do?"**

Apocryphos ignored the sound of coughing and labored gasps for breath from the troublesome Inspector at his feet in favor of concentrating on the problem at hand.

 _ **I can't repeat what I did for "Allen" exactly, completely erasing his memories would render him useless, and I have don't have the time to chaperone him personally to ensure no one like Cross corrupts him while he is growing; good riddance to that incorrigible man, really, the Americans in this day and age have no—Ah. Now there's a thought, perhaps I'll take a page from the book of the original Americans. As I recall, the indigenous peoples of that land would set forest fires to clear out the underbrush choking the forest to make room for new growth, all the while leaving the trees themselves unharmed, some trees even**_ **need** _ **the fires in order for their seeds to germinate.**_

The independent Innocence smiled at the fitting metaphor.

 _ **Yes, clear out the current poisonous influences in his mind to allow him to reach his full potential on the correct path. It will be a more delicate endeavor than the usual replacement or complete erasure, but not impossible. That still leaves the matter of where to place him while he re-matures. I can't risk losing another useful tool to outside influences… So. Where to—**_

" _ **Ah!"**_ Apocryphos brought the hand that had been under his chin down to smack the palm of the other as inspiration hit.

 _ **Yes! That's perfect! I've finally regained that ability, it's irksome that it takes so long to recharge, but no matter. Not only will he be kept away from the interference of those in this world, but it will even give him the opportunity to increase his abilities! I'll even be able to set the entryway and exit within the time alignment, so it will only take a few months on this end!**_

The Innocence being reached down to haul the ex-CROW up to a more manageable level, placing a hand on his forehead to more accurately instruct the already implanted feathers on their new task. They would still function without a physical connection to their source, but this would need to be precise.

The Inspector let out a feeble cry of anguish as the feathers set back to work.

 _ **It's a pity this has to be so painful, normally it isn't, but then, normally those on the receiving end don't have such strong minds to fight back with—oh?**_

Apocryphos was shocked to discover that the blond had nearly managed to subdue the feathers, before they had been reactivated.

 _ **If I had not activated them again, you may have even been able to retain a few subconscious recollections. Well, with that tenacity, all the more reason to have you on my side.**_

The pained sounds of the blond were suddenly drowned out by the blaring of the alarms, echoing throughout the labyrinth of corridors and cells that filled the Order's underbelly. The independent Innocence blew out a vexed sigh, knowing it wouldn't take long now for guards to make their appearance, and likely Director Leverrier himself as well considering the circumstances.

 _ **Why was the alarm triggered anyways? It's not as though they are aware that there were intruders, if the Noahs had not set it off with their entrance, it is unlikely they would have set it off exiting the same way, and it is a bit delayed for it to have been caused by**_ _ ** **—** Ah. That would do it.**_

One of the guards outside the door had regained enough of their senses to activate their communicator, though not enough to reply to the now frantic shouts demanding they report. That would be enough of a reason to set off the alarms, yes. The Innocence being's attention turned back to the irritation in hand, starting the process that would send the soon-to-be-ex-Inspector out of reach of any from this world. It would be troublesome to have to replace the memories of all the people that were sure to be swarming the cell any minute now, and the transportation process couldn't be interrupted until the temporal synchronization had been established in the gateways. And unfortunately, there wouldn't be enough time to do so if it waited until the feathers were finished with his memories. The entrance and exits would just have to be ready by the time the feathers had completed their job. Leaving them to do their work without direction was too great a risk, considering the mental strength Leverrier's dog had exhibited, though the process of de-aging could be left to complete on its own once started, as it wouldn't take long to reach the full intended effect.

" **Ah, there we are, the gateways are set. And by the time you get there you will find yourself very different than what you are used to, not that you''ll remember once my feathers have done their job,"** The Innocence crooned. **"Safe travels, my dear Inspector. I won't be seeing you for a while, though it will be longer for you. I trust that you will be of great assistance to me upon your retur—Agh!"**

A sharp, stabbing sensation in the hand holding the ex-CROW's jacket startled Apocryphos into losing concentration, and breaking both the grip that had been anchoring the Inspector to this world and the Innocence's connection to the unfinished feathers. The blond disappeared with a crack and a rush of displaced air, but not before the Innocence being caught a glimpse of a small, smugly grinning golden orb peeking from where it had been hidden within the red corduroy of the Inspector's jacket.

Apocryphos stared in shock, before throwing back its head and releasing a scream of all consuming rage.

" **THAT DAMNED CROSS AND HIS THRICE-CURESED GOLEEEEM!"**

The curse was punctuated with a punch to the floor that left a crater in its wake, accompanied by heavy breathing as the enraged Innocence reigned in its temper.

" **No matter,"** it said with a deadly calm to its voice.

" **All the golem has done is remove itself from any position it had to hinder my search for "Allen", the inspector's abilities would have been useful, but they are not necessary, all that has been lost is my ability to use the gateways for another decade."**

As Apocryphos stood, his previous appearance of a Cardinal reformed around him. Shaking out a newly reformed handkerchief from his pocket, he removed his glasses and wiped them down in a familiar, calming gesture. Replacing the handkerchief and his glasses, he made his way to the open doorway of the cell, intending to be gone before anyone was the wiser.

"Right now, "Allen" is the top priority, he must be removed from the Noahs' possession immediately. And as for the matter of Levverier's dog," He paused at the doorway to re-erase the memory of the guard who had awoken.

"In three months' time, I'll simply have to remove him from the picture. After all, I can't have you interfering again like you did tonight." His eyes narrowed, steps echoing in the currently empty hallway.

"Inspector Howard Link."

* * *

 **AN: Hello! Thank you for reading my first ever post to Fanfiction . net. I've had this story idea bouncing around in my head for a while now, and to be honest, there really aren't enough Link-centric fanfics, so I thought I'd make my own contribution. I hope you enjoy!**

 **For the excerpts from canon, I used a mix of translations; from the officially translated hard copies of the manga, an online translation, and even the subtitles from Hallow; combining them however they flowed best.**

 **A couple things I realized while writing his:  
What is it with Road and candle-stabbing people's left eyes? She's done it twice now, and both times it's been the left eye, why not the right? Also, no one can convince me that the Shou Tucker look-a-like over there doesn't have rage issues. That punch that caused Road's dream to "break"? That was originally aimed at Allen, who Apocryphos had previously been claiming to want to "help". He can't do whatever weird extraction/fusion he claimed was so important if Allen's dead.**

 **LeapFroggy out.**


	2. Chapter 2

In the early hours of the morning, a young boy lay curled on his side, fast asleep despite the cold, hard surface he rested on. His chin-length, straw colored haired splayed on the ground from where his head poked out from the much too large jacket encasing his frame. And it was not only the jacket that was oversized. Buried in the too big garments as he was, it was almost impossible to make out the steady rise and fall of the boy's chest.

And something was insistently nudging his cheek.

The child huddled deeper into the pile of clothing, tucking his head further into the collar of his red military style jacket, to escape the prodding.

"Go'way 'Kusa, isn't ev'n sunrise ye-" his sleepy statement turned into a yawn, and he seemed to go back to sleep.

The poking started again, more forceful now.

"I said quit it! 'm too tired t' g't up yet…" the boy whined as he attempted to bat away whoever was trying to rouse him, oversized sleeve flopping about with the movement of his hand.

Apparently, that was the wrong answer, as the next moment something dove into his jacket, and several sharp somethings clamped down on his ear. HARD.

"YEEOOCH!"

Link shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide and instantly awake, scanning his surroundings for his attacker, only to find a fluttering gold sphere with wings hovering to his left, looking far too pleased with itself. It took the blond a few seconds for the sight to register, before he realized that no, it was not Tokusa being an irritating prick of a morning person; waking him up far too early after another night of sleeping on cold stone just to relieve his own boredom.

"What on earth!? Timcanpy!? why would you—" the blond froze.

That was not how his voice should sound.

"Timcanpy, what—" no, still strange.

"What is going on, where…" Link trailed off as he finally took in his surroundings, irked that he had let his awareness lapse that much. His voice sounding odd could wait for later, he had bigger problems.

The Inspector was sitting on the slate cobbled ground of an unfamiliar, narrow brick alleyway, a set of stairs in front of him and the blue light of early dawn just beginning to filter in through the entrance to the street behind him.

 _How did I…? I don't remember how I got here… What's the last thing I—_

'Graahh.'

Timcanpy bumped into Link's head again, adamant on getting his attention.

"Would you stop? I already have a headache, and your teeth didn't help!" glaring at the golem, he lifted his hand to his bleeding ear. He received a surprise when, instead of the smooth cloth of his gloves that he was expecting, he felt the thicker fabric of his jacket sleeve.

Confused, he brought his hand back down to look at it, finding that the cuff hung far past his hand. A quick glance confirmed the same was true of the other sleeve, as well as the rest of his clothing.

"What on Earth!?" the blond stared, blinking in shock at his now extremely oversized uniform.

Timcanpy had apparently had enough with being ignored and slammed into Link's forehead.

"Aagh! Alright! Alright! What is it!? I swear, if all this is some sort of sick prank cooked up by Lavi or Chief Komui…"

He let the unspoken threat hang in the air.

Timcanpy bobbed in the air, in a way somehow very reminiscent of its master rolling his eyes. Link was fairly certain the only reason he could make that connection was because of how often Allen did so.

 _Wait… Walker. There was something about Walker, I just can't…_

His train of thought was pushed aside for the moment, when Tim tilted its head upwards and opened its mouth; projecting a grainy image of a Central uniform piled on the ground, with blond hair spilling out of the collar. The image zoomed very quickly towards the collar, and went dark for a moment, before sound joined the projection.

" _ **YEEOOCH!"**_

Whatever the Inspector had been expecting, it wasn't this. When the darkness in the image receded, it was his own face staring back at him.

" _ **Timcanpy!? why would you—"**_ the image froze at this point, on his shocked and bewildered expression from a few minutes ago, which he was likely wearing again.

Because not only was it his own face he was looking at, it was his own face as he had looked right after he had been recruited to CROW.

Which had been when he was _eleven._

 _Well. That explains my voice._ The sarcastic part of his mind thought.

"I don't understand." Wide eyed, he turned to look once again at his oversized clothing "How did this happen? Wait…" Link's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Is this more of the Science Department's 'Chibi' potion!? Because if it is I'll—!" His growing anger deflated when the golden golem frantically shook its head in the negative. Well, shook its body.

"If it wasn't one of the Science Department's potions, then what happened?" he demanded, before twisting to observe the alley again.

"And how did I get here? I don't remember what—" he sighed "Give me a minute, I need to think."

Timcanpy, apparently satisfied with having said, uh, showed, its piece, obliged him and settled on his shoulder to wait for him to gather his thoughts.

 _Okay, what do I remember last? Madarao and the others were transferred to the European HQ a few days ago, and then there was the wide-spread akuma activity. I accompanied Walker, Kanda, Tewaku, Madarao, and Tokusa to Jordan. Walker, Tokusa, Madarao, and I left to deal with the akuma, while Kanda and Tewaku stayed to guard the camp in case they decided to attack there. I lost track of Walker, Tokusa, and Madarao in the chaos and they stopped responding over the communicator. I returned to the camp, but it had been attacked and there were no survivors accept Tewaku. When she came to, she mentioned the… vision… the Noah gave her, and we both proceeded to head to the North America branch via Ark. Upon arrival, we discovered a barrier blocking us from entering, along with a few Level 4s. Timcanpy…_

Link glanced at the innocent looking golem sitting comfortably on his shoulder.

 _Uh…Grew._

Shaking that particular memory from his head before it made his headache any worse than it already was, the blond skipped over the breaking of the barrier and moved on.

 _Once the barrier was down, we made our way to the wreckage of the North American headquarters where Tokusa was—_

The ex-CROW gritted his teeth as something in his chest tightened.

 _Not important now._

 _After the Noah left, Walker was imprisoned. That's what I was thinking of earlier, wasn't it? There was a meeting, and then I asked Jerry for the bowl of food. I took it to Walker and…?_

Link frowned, realizing he could not remember anything past kicking in the door.

 _No, wait. There was something about the Noah, what… what was it…?_

Pulling his sleeve up so he could actually use his hand, he rubbed at his forehead, trying to relieve the growing pain there.

 _Footsteps, echoing in the empty cell. Mounting dread. Can't breathe…!_

"ACK!"

The blond hunched in on himself as the pain spiked, startling Timcanpy from its perch. Clutching his hands to his head and squeezing his eyes shut. He stayed in that position, until the feeling of an icicle being stabbed through his temple receded to the dull ache of before.

He slowly untensed and lowered his hands to his lap, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. as Tim fluttered worriedly around him.

"What was _that_ about?" he muttered.

Timcanpy landed again, this time on his knee, and tapped it twice with its small hand. Once more requesting his attention. Link gave it, and watched as Tim opened its mouth to play yet another recording. Only to grow cold with shock as the events he was missing played out in front of him through the static ridden projection. When the video ended, the ex-CROW took a deep breath to center himself, and gave a hard look to the golem on his knee.

"So, let me get this straight. I _actually_ told Walker about my relation to the thirds, before he collapsed from the Fourteenth trying to take over again. That… thing…disguised as a Cardinal came in and tried to do something to him. I attempted to stop it and… failed…miserably," Link didn't know what to think of this part. Its speed was terrifying and the fact it could, and did, erase his memories rose all sorts of alarm bells in his brain. But mostly, "Walker attacked it in an attempt to… save me," which was backwards and strange in so many ways he barely even knew where to start. Ugh, he had spent too many years in Central, the idea of anyone other than his superior officers _not_ wishing injury and death upon him was difficult to comprehend. Especially considering the circumstances under which he and Walker had been forced to become acquainted.

 _Idiot. Trying to be friends with everybody. I'm not- (worth it) … I can't- (I have my orders) …_

He shoved the confusion aside to deal with later and continued.

"Innocence proved to be…VERY ineffective. The Noahs decided to drop in, out of almost literally thin air, and apparently, IT is responsible for General Cross's murder. I bound it and released you in an attempt to both help Walker escape and to reveal, Apocryphos they called it? By forcing it to kill me and draw attention to the circumstances of my death. Which apparently failed on both accounts, firstly because you did not manage to get Walker outside where he could at least get away from the Noah."

Link glared accusingly at the golem, who fluttered its wings indignantly before playing a part of the recording it had skipped before.

 _ **Allen lay on the ground where Apocryphos had released him upon being sealed, the Noah-child standing in front of him protectively, arms spread with an expression of surprise on her face at being unharmed**_

" _ **RUN FOR IT!"**_

 _ **Upon hearing these words, Timcanpy rushed towards his master. Only to be beaten to him by the long -haired Noah, who grabbed both Allen and the girl and leaped toward the wall, where a heart shaped door had just appeared and opened. Tim's desperate attempt to reach Allen ended with him slamming into the door just as it closed completely, the explosion from the spell strips going off right after. Panicking, and knowing he needed to hide quickly to be of any further help at all, Tim shrunk to his smallest size and used the not-yet-cleared dust cloud from the explosion to obscure his flight over to the collapsed Inspector from The-White-Monster-Who-Wanted-To-Hurt-Allen, and concealed himself inside the blond's jacket.**_

Link sighed as the recording faded.

"So the Noah beat you to him. If Road hadn't opened that door, you would have , Tim." the golem nodded sharply, satisfied.

"And secondly, it failed because it figured out my plan and decided it could kill two birds with one stone by turning me into its pawn instead of killing me. Which would both leave no trace for the Director to investigate, and give it a useful puppet." He huffed out a breath.

"And it was planning to accomplish this by erasing most of my memories and…" he paused to look down at himself, "turning me into a child. Which it apparently has _already_ done to Walker."

Which, frankly, is what disturbed the Inspector most about this situation. Even more than the feathers that had been… protruding from his eyes. It raised a lot of questions with no clear answers.

"Though it appears to have been slightly disappointed with the results of Cross's meddling," Timcanpy made an odd sound somewhere between its usual 'graah' and a snigger, "and so has decided to send me to a place it seemed certain there would not be a repeat. Though that seems to have been thwarted before it even began thanks to you interrupting him before he could completely erase my memories."

He tried to infuse the look he gave the golem with as much gratitude as possible.

"Thank you for that, by the way."

Tim just grinned widely and made a happy sounding 'grahh'.

The corner of the normally stoic Inspector's mouth twitched for a second, before he sighed and slumped against the alley wall.

"Did I get everything?"

The golem nodded happily, pleased it had gotten the Inspector up to speed successfully.

"What a mess. Now that just leaves the question of where we are? And why did it think that I wouldn't encounter anyone who would turn me against it here? It looks like any other alley in Europe, there isn't anything special about it. Since he didn't manage to completely erase my memories, and you

recorded everything that happened in that cell, all we have to do is make our way back to the Order and warn someone."

He wanted to be relieved. He wanted to be happy that things had turned out all right, even though he had failed to leave evidence for the Director back in the cell. But there was a queasiness in his gut that told him something wasn't right, and that it wouldn't be that easy. And he hated it when he got that feeling.

Because he was usually right.

"Well, best get started. No point in waiting around here and worrying." The Inspector attempted to rise to his feet, only to trip and fall back to his knees due to his over large clothing.

Timcanpy was up in the air again, and Link just knew it was amused at his fumble.

"Yes, yes, I forgot. Go ahead and laugh at the disoriented Inspector," he said dryly, giving an irritated glance at the cheerfully bobbing golden sphere.

 _At least this problem is easily fixed._

He sat back down and began to remove his jacket.

 _I never would have imagined that one day I'd be grateful for the years of having to deal with whatever ill-fitting clothing we could scavenge._

Setting the jacket aside, his gloves followed suit. He began to roll up his sleeves until they were above his elbows, revealing the serrated switchblades hanging loosely on his wrists over the black cloth bracers meant to keep the straps from chafing. He tried adjusting the straps, but when it became clear that they wouldn't be able to tighten enough to prevent them from sliding around on his now scrawny, eleven-year-old arms, he sighed; before loosening them again and removing them as well.

Kicking his boots off the rest of the way, he set to work on rolling up his pants, until there was a thick band of folded fabric hanging around his ankles. He hesitated for a moment, as he didn't have a belt for these, and there was no way they would stay up on their own now, due to his shrunken frame; but then hiked up the waistband and pulled his shirt out to lay on top, before taking his jacket and tying it snugly around his waist to act as a makeshift belt. It made him look even more like a ragamuffin than when he was a child, even back then they had had the decency to tuck their shirts in, but function was more important than propriety at the moment; and this way he would be able to tell more easily if they started slipping. It meant he had to move the spell strips he had hidden in his jacket sleeves though, and he stuck them in its pockets so they would still be reasonably accessible.

Now that left the problem of his boots… they were too big to stay on his feet, and whereas before they came up to just beneath his knees, they now reached mid-thigh and were not made to bend in a way that accommodated that. It was warm enough, wherever in the world he had ended up, to go barefoot; but if he encountered trouble and had to run, things could get sticky without anything to protect his feet.

He had seen what could happen under those circumstances when Madarao had outgrown _his_ pair one summer, and ended up having to run from a stray dog before he could find new ones. It had taken him hours to dig out all the bits of broken glass he had accidently run through.

Not willing to risk it, he took his gloves and wrapped them around one foot, along with his bracers, and shoved it into his boot in the hopes it would make it fit more snugly. It did, so he did the same to his other foot, this time with his vest, and forcibly folded over the material of his boots so they would end below his knee again, which had the added effect of making them fit closer to his legs as well. After a moment's thought, he slipped his switch blades down his boots as well, one each.

Getting to his feet, this time without mishap, he finally noticed that his hair was brushing the sides of his face. Looking around in the hopes that his hair tie had come here with him and had just fallen to the ground yielded no results, so he improvised and used his ribbon instead, slipping his Central emblem communicator into his pocket for safekeeping. It didn't work as well as he had hoped, as his hair was now too short to stay completely pulled back, and some still stuck out beside his face. He would have to wait until it grew out again.

Now that he could actually move properly again, he headed toward the mouth of the alley, where warm sunlight was beginning to filter through. As he reached the street, still empty at the early hour, he felt Tim plop down on his head.

"Bad idea Timcanpy, you aren't exactly a normal sight, and we can't afford to draw attention. It's already bad enough I look like a child, we're going to attract too much as it is."

The golem made a disappointed growl, before swooping down and into his pocket instead. He could feel it wriggle around a bit, getting comfortable.

The child-Inspector patted the pocket it was in as a silent apology, and turned to head down the street hoping to find out what part of the world he had ended up in. It didn't take long, as about twenty yards down, they came to a cross street with a street post in English.

"Somewhere in America or England then, though my bets on England, considering the architecture of these buildings," he muttered to himself.

The streets were still empty, which struck him as odd. There should be _someone_ at least, going to the market or heading to the bakery before the crowds got heavy. The street he was walking on was fairly small and narrow, probably one that didn't see a lot of traffic, but still. A bolt of tension went up his spine as he considered the possibility that he had ended up in an akuma ghost town, where the majority of the population was akuma, so much so that no one walked the streets for fear of them. But that wouldn't make sense, considering Apocryphos's intentions for him.

 _If he was planning to turn me into a puppet to assist him, why send me to somewhere so deadly, in a state in which I wouldn't be able defend myself? I'd be dead by sunset, if not sooner._

As he continued walking down the street, someone walked out of a building a few yards ahead, a tavern, and set to propping up a chalkboard menu advertising the day's special outside, whistling a cheerful tune as they did so. Dressed in a white button-down, slacks, and apron tied around their waste, it seemed likely this was the bartender, perhaps the owner as well.

 _Scratch the akuma ghost town theory, no human living in one would be that carefree, and no akuma would bother to try and maintain a human cover anymore. Time to get some answers then._

"Excuse me!" Link called, running up to him before he returned inside.

The man paused in opening the door, and turned to face the little blond boy in surprise.

"We won't be open fer another half hour, lad." He said, accent very obviously British.

 _That answers that question._

"Ah, no. You see, I'm afraid I got a bit turned around, would you mind telling me where the train station is?"

Link hoped there actually was a train station in this town or city, otherwise he would sound a bit crazy. But then, he looked like a child, he could just say someone had tricked him and no one would pay him any mind. Probably.

"You got turned about quite a bit then I'd say, King's Cross is back the way you was coming from," the man's eyebrows rose high on his forehead.

 _King's Cross Station!? London!_

The ex-CROW wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, London meant he could just take a quick train to the coast and be back at the Order in a matter of days, but his twisting stomach wouldn't let him, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He stamped down the feeling, and gave a nod to the man in thanks.

"Thank you so much, I was starting to get worried. Could you give me directions so I won't get lost again?"

"Of course, here, let me write 'em down. Yer not from around here, are you? You talk different. Don't sound American either though. Where are you from?" he asked, head tilting in curiosity as he pulled out a pad of paper and pencil and began writing down the directions.

Link figured there was no harm in answering with the truth for this.

"Germany originally. But I've traveled a lot, so I don't really sound like it anymore."

"That so? Well, here you are." He ripped the top sheet off the pad, "directions to King's Cross. But where are yer parents lad? You can't be wandering 'round on yer own? Yer only a boy!"

The blond faltered for a moment. He had expected people to assume he was just another orphaned street brat. Though maybe speaking properly like he had been taught in Central, was a bit of a giveaway… He had forgotten just how differently he used to talk. Implying that he had parents might cause some trouble, if some good Samaritan were to try and locate them, or insist on escorting him to them. But saying he didn't could cause its own set of problems… Half and half then.

"I don't know my father, and my mother is ill. I was going to the train station to greet my cousin, they're coming in on today's train to help out." when the man still looked concerned, Link added, "I've gone there by myself before, it's not far from our house, but I accidently took a wrong turn this time and ended up here."

Taking the paper containing the directions, Link very discretely got ready to bolt if he hit a dead end with his story. He knew he wouldn't be able fight his way out of the situation, not without his spells. He could only hope that he would be as good at running away as he had been when he actually was eleven. The problem was, he didn't know this city. Not like he knew the one he grew up in.

The bartender's expression softened a bit in sympathy, but not entirely.

"I'm sorry to hear that, I hope she gets better. Still, this is an awfully long way to have gotten lost heading to the station, especially fer someone yer size." He looked just a tad suspicious now.

 _Probably thinks I'm a runaway. That's my cue to end this conversation._

"Which is why I better hurry, I don't want to miss my cousin's train coming in. Thank you for your help!" He turned and waved to the slightly bewildered man as he ran off, only pausing to study the directions he had been given when he was out of sight and then some.

Timcanpy popped out of his pocket and looked over his shoulder to read along with him as they continued walking.

"Hm, not as far as I thought. From the way he was talking you would think it was a couple of miles."

The golem bobbed in agreement, before returning to its hiding place.

Orienting himself, Link turned towards the direction of the station and headed off, looking down at the paper holding the directions every so often to make sure he was still going the right way. He really didn't need to, as he had memorized them almost immediately, but the streets weren't becoming any more familiar as he went.

"This makes no sense. I've been to London, and King's Cross station, plenty of times before. Including a good deal of the area surrounding the station." He began to cross a street, "And yet I still haven't recognized anythi—"

 _ **HOOOOooOONK!**_

Link was startled almost out of his skin by a sudden, loud blaring. Turning, his eyes widened upon seeing something large, black, and made of metal come speeding towards him. He dove for the sidewalk with a shout of alarm, and stumbled, scraping his hands and knees on the rough surface, before rolling to lessen the damage. The thing screeched to a halt only a foot or so from where the blond had been walking.

The de-aged Inspector sat where he had landed, trying to get his adrenaline back under control, and stared at the machine that had nearly run him over. Now that it wasn't hurtling towards him, and he was able to get a good look at it, he realized it looked somewhat like the "automobiles" that had been popping up across Europe and America the last few years. Before he was transferred from Central to the European HQ, he had overheard some talk of the Order trying to develop some for its own use, but that had been rendered moot with the acquisition of the Ark.

The door on its side opened, and out stepped a young man, tall and lanky, with messy brown hair and stubble on their chin.

And a very angry expression.

"Bloody Hell kid! What were you thinking!? Going out into the middle of the road like that! Didn't your Mum ever teach you to look both ways before crossing!?" He shouted, gesticulating wildly.

The man seemed more stressed than angry now, probably just as stunned as Link at what had almost happened. Finishing his rant, the man dragged his hand through his hair, before leaning heavily on the top of his door, deflating with a huff.

"Don't do that kid, scared the crap outta me. You okay?"

Heart finally starting to slow down, Link got to his feet, still a little dazed, and brushed himself off.

"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry, I should have been paying more attention." Which was beginning to become a problem, he really couldn't afford to continue being this inobservant.

"It's fine, just be more careful from now on, a'right? What's a little guy like you doing out this early anyway? It's not even six thirty!"

Link was beginning to get annoyed with his physical age. He didn't remember people asking so many questions the first time.

"I'm heading to the train station to meet my cousin, they're coming in today."

 _May as well stick to that story._

The man's eyebrows shot up and he straightened against the door.

"That's a half hour's walk from here! You sure you can make it?"

 _Very_ annoyed.

"Yes, thank you. I have before." He said hotly.

The man raised his hands in surrender.

"A'right, a'right, no need to get defensive about it. All the same, you want a lift? Free of charge, of course, considering I almost hit you. I was headed that way to begin with anyway." He jabbed a thumb back at his vehicle.

"Eh? What do you mean?"

The blond was getting really tired of being caught off-guard. The man rolled his eyes, looking amused.

"Well I _am_ a cab driver, driving people around the city is sort of what I do for a living."

 _I hate looking like a child._

"Are you a kidnapper?" Link deadpanned.

That got a reaction. A downright affronted one.

"I most certainly am not! Take a look at the license if you don't believe me!"

The man pointed towards the rear of his vehicle. Taking a quick look, sure enough, there was a sign on the back that said 'licensed taxi' with a serial number beneath.

"forgive me if I've never seen a cab like this one before." _In my experience, they're_ normally _pulled by horses._

"Where have you been living?"

"Not London." It wasn't a lie.

The man didn't seem to have a response to that.

"Listen, you want that ride or not?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Link drummed his fingers against his leg, considering. Eventually deciding that saving his energy would be worth the risk. And if things did go south, it's not as though he was helpless, handicapped yes, but definitely not helpless.

"Alright. I'll take you up on your offer."

The cabbie reached back and pulled the back door open.

"Hop in then."

Link did so, the door closing behind him. The driver got into his own seat, starting the engine and continuing down the road.

"The name's Geoffrey by the way."

"Link."

"Well, nice to meet you then Link, even if it isn't under the most normal circumstances."

 _They aren't the strangest I've met someone under. Trust me._

"Likewise."

It was silent after that, Geoffrey concentrating on his driving and Link watching out the window, continuing to look for familiar landmarks, every now and then glancing at the directions he had received to make sure the cabbie really was taking him in the right direction. After a few minutes, the ex-CROW began to see people start to appear on the streets here and there, as they got to a busier part of the city. But the scenery didn't get any more familiar, only seeming more off as they went. The lettering on the shop windows was a style he had never seen before, and he had even seen what he thought were other automobiles, except these looked more like something Komui and the Order's Science Department would come up with.

He was starting to get worried by this point. There was definitely something wrong, He hadn't been to London in a while, but it couldn't have changed this much. He was about to ask Geoffrey how much further until they reached the station, as he couldn't tell with how off everything was, but the words got stuck in his throat when he caught sight of a massive building, rectangular in shape and as tall as one of the towers of the new HQ building, seeming to be constructed from glimmering panes of glass. As if a switch had been flipped after making this observation, the buildings on either side of the street began to change as they went, brick and wood being replaced with glass and metal. More of the enormous structures appearing in the skyline. There was a decent sized crowd on the sidewalk now, but they were all wearing strange clothes that might not have looked out of place amongst the eccentric staff of the Order perhaps, but was definitely _not_ the norm anywhere else in the world.

 _This is not the London I remember. Something is very, Very wrong._

"You okay back there? You've been awfully quiet, normally kids your age can't shut up."

The blond managed to stop himself from jumping at the sudden question.

"I'm fine, just… looking outside…"

"Beautiful, ain't it? I wouldn't want to live anywhere else."

There was something very strange going on, and the only way Link would figure out what, would be by gathering information. Geoffrey had just opened up the perfect opportunity to do so.

"Have you? Lived anywhere else I mean."

"Nope, London boy, born an' raised. What about you, munchkin?"

Link frowned at the nickname.

"Please don't call me that. I was born in Germany, but I've moved all over. I've only come to London recently." An hour _was_ technically still ' _recently'._

"How about squirt then?" Geoffrey asked with a grin.

"No. How long have you been a cab driver?"

The cabbie shrugged at the blond's refusal of the proposed nickname, and answered the question.

"Three years, passed The Knowledge when I was 22." He looked extremely proud of this accomplishment.

"Is that young?"

"You bet. It takes most five or six years to pass, I started studying right out of secondary school and made it in four."

"Secondary school?" Link hadn't heard that term before.

"That's right, class of '87. You look about the age to be starting yourself. You might be used to the term 'high school' though."

The Inspector frowned. That math didn't add up. For Geoffrey to have graduated in 1887, spent four years studying, and passed two years ago, it would have to be 1891 now. But Link knew full well it was 1893. With how often he had to date his reports it was impossible for him not to.

"You graduated in 1887?" He asked, wandering if maybe the cabbie had misspoken.

To his surprise, Geoffrey started laughing.

"Oi! Do I look a' hundred and twenty-two to you?! Class of _19_ 87." The cabbie said with a grin.

Link's blood ran cold upon hearing the teasing response. Still he had to respond normally, or there would start to be awkward questions.

"Sorry, I misspoke."

"Ha-ha, sure you did munchkin."

The blond muttered a token, "Don't call me that," to keep up appearances before turning back to the window, hoping to end the conversation. Thankfully, Geoffrey didn't ask any more questions, still chuckling to himself occasionally.

 **19** _91!? That's- how is that possible!?_

Link's eyebrows drew together as he looked out the window at the foreign architecture and clothing.

 _I, well, I suppose it would explain the differences. Almost a hundred years is a long time. Things would change._

He let his forehead rest on the glass.

 _But still, a hundred years!? Why? What could Apocryphos gain from this?_

The queasiness he had felt earlier had left, leaving only a hallow feeling in his chest, now that he had discovered the full extent of his circumstances.

 _I hate being right._

* * *

The rest of the ride to King's Cross station passed in silence, only being broken upon their arrival.

"Here we are, King's Cross as promised." Geoffrey stated genially.

The station was the first landmark Link had been able to recognize since waking up here, but even it had changed. By now though, he had managed to regain enough of his composure to maintain his act of normality.

"Thank you." He said, climbing out of the cab.

The glass in the window of Geoffrey's door slid down, allowing him to stick his head out.

"No trouble at all. Have fun meeting your cousin by the way, tell 'em I said hello."

"I will," Link said, simply being polite, before getting an idea and adding, "Actually, one more thing, would you happen to know where the nearest library is?"

"Sure, Pancras Square Library isn't even five minutes' walk from here. See that street up ahead?" He pointed straight ahead.

Link nodded.

"That's Pancras Road, turn right an' keep going 'til you hit the next cross street, the library is on that corner."

"Thank you."

The cabbie smiled, giving a lazy two fingered salute, "No problem. Just remember to look both ways before crossing this time," he said laughing, "and wait for the traffic lights."

Link huffed, still somewhat embarrassed at his earlier mistake.

"I'll remember."

"See you later, munchkin!" Geoffrey grinned, before raising the glass in his window again, and pulling back out onto the street.

 _He's as bad as Lavi. To a nickname, as a dog is to a bone._

Link turned to head towards the train station. If he wasn't crazy and it really was a hundred years in the future, he wouldn't be able to simply take a train back to the Order. He _would_ , however, be needing food and money, which meant he would have to pick up an old habit from his days before CROW.

He would make his way to the library later. It was much easier to not get caught in a busy, crowded area like a train station.

Time to see if his fingers are as quick as they used to be.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Link. an hour previous, coinciding exactly with the Inspector's arrival, in a small locked tower of an old castle in the Scottish Highlands, a long, faded quill floated out of its inkpot. The Quill of acceptance floated cautiously towards the Book of Admittance, as if afraid it would slam shut and refuse it entry. The book did not, and so the quill began to write, a name following its strokes in silvery lines and swirls. Once done, the quill floated back to its inkpot, to await the next name.

The name it had written would be found the next day, by one Professor McGonagall, as she gathered the list of chosen students, specifically, the list of those she would have to visit personally.

* * *

AN: I almost forgot his switchblades, I had to go back and write them in… oops.

 **Don't expect chapters of this length to become the norm!** It took longer than I thought to include everything I wanted to, and I couldn't find a good place to split it. This length might eventually become a thing, but I'm not ready to commit myself to doing it _every_ time yet. (How the heck did I manage to write 13 ½ pages for one chapter anyways? 0_0)

Apologies for the horrible attempts at accents and "British-speak". With the bartender who gave Link directions, I was trying to use a very watered down version of what Hagrid's accent looked like in the books. Not sure I succeeded.

I don't know why, but every time I come up with a DGM crossover where the DGM characters go to the modern world, I always toss in a scene about them nearly being hit by a car. No idea why.

Also, the reason why Link didn't notice the car, even though he has super special CROW ninja training, is that, firstly, he's used to listening for horse hooves and carriage wheels when crossing the street, not car engines.

Secondly, he's had a bit of a rough time the last few days: Of the people he considers his family, two are now dead, and three are now puppets for their worst enemy. The only person in the world who treats him as though he's a friend, Allen, was locked up, and from Link's point of view, presumably not far away from execution. All of which he feels personally responsible and guilty for (I make this conclusion based off A: he outright says he feels that way about the thirds' fates in Allen's cell. And B: because right before he zoned out in the meeting, he was thinking of Allen saying he wished Link had trusted him more). He didn't even notice his own name being called at first during the meeting, it was affecting him that much.

And not to mention, lastly, he's just been knocked around by Apo-creeper pretty bad and de-aged, his awareness and reflexes are going to be a little dull until he can pull himself together again.

As for why he doesn't start to clue in to the fact that somethings up after seeing it, I blame it on the Order. They have floating elevators and mechs for crying out loud! I'm operating under the assumption that for those working there, the lines between what exists within the Order only, and the outside world's capabilities get a bit muddled sometimes. Next to a Komurin, a car isn't exactly all that unbelievable.

Yes, Link was a pickpocket as a child. At least in my fic.

Thank you to **neah20** , **geme1** , and **Guest** for reviewing, and to **neah20** , **geme1** , **Twinkles43534** ,and **vanumi-victoria** for following. It really means a lot, Thank you.

 **LeapFroggy out.**


	3. Chapter 3

Link slammed the book shut in frustration, and added it to the growing pile on his right.

"This isn't getting anywhere." He said quietly to himself, rubbing at his sore eyes and wishing for his reading glasses.

It had been a week since he had first woken up in the alley. Thankfully, his pick-pocketing skills hadn't declined too much and by now he had developed something of a routine. Mornings were spent gathering funds, while Timcanpy, who could be surprisingly sneaky when it wanted to be, pitched in with its self-appointed task of pilfering food from a nearby deli's display case.

Link had been surprised on the afternoon of the first day, while counting his 'earnings', trying to calculate how much needed to be spent on food and how much could be saved for other things (which was made difficult by the need to account for the insane amount of inflation that had apparently occurred), when Timcanpy had dropped an apple and two sandwiches in his lap. He had tried to dissuade the golem from doing it again, citing the risk of being seen or, Walker's personal favorite, getting eaten by a cat. But Timcanpy had just grown to the size of said feline, and grinned smugly. The ex-CROW was still worried the golem would be spotted, but he had to admit, any cat would think twice about trying to eat a 'bird' that suddenly grew bigger than they were, with teeth to match. And since Tim had gotten out of his pocket without even _him_ noticing, it wasn't likely anyone else would, either.

At least, he hoped they wouldn't. It was already stressful enough, having to watch the streets for the cabbie that had given him a ride to the station. He really didn't want to explain what he was still doing here.

Knowing it wouldn't be any safer for a child on the streets after dark now, than it had been a century ago, he spent the first few nights in the station. By climbing a drain pipe to a high ledge, and wedging himself into a corner, to both ensure he wouldn't fall while he slept, and to keep himself as out of sight as possible. Those sleeping arrangements changed halfway through the week, when he discovered that it was far easier (and warmer) to find a secluded corner of the library, and keep out of sight until after it was closed for the night. He had nearly been caught the first time though, before he had figured out that the outside world evidently now had their own version of security golems. Less mobile, as they were mounted to the walls and ceilings, but it still meant he had more than human eyes to avoid.

Any time he could afford to spare was spent at the library, where he was currently, researching a way to return to his own world. And a different world it was, not simply the future as he had originally thought. Or more accurately, an _alternate_ world.

The de-aged Inspector had come to this conclusion after going through a few of the history books in the Pancras Square Library, discovering that several historical events differed drastically from that of his world, and not due to the Order's censorship. As an Inspector, he was privy to both the original events and what had been allowed into the newspapers. These accounts didn't line up with either. Though in a way, he was glad for that, the thought of what the Earl could manage with the help of, not one, but two world wars…

He shuddered to even imagine it.

Which was the oddest part. If the Earl existed in this world, it wouldn't have survived even one, let alone two wars of that magnitude. Not to mention the fact that Japan was a thriving country of humans, rather than an akuma infested stronghold of the Earl. When he had first developed his suspicions, he had even gone to a librarian and asked for assistance finding newspaper articles on unsolved mass disappearances or deaths, for a "school project". Astonishingly, there weren't any, at least not in their limited collection.

It seemed impossible.

Though they didn't happen on a daily basis, akuma caused massacres were the one thing the Order couldn't cover up completely, and they occurred often enough to never fade entirely from the gossip circles of larger cities. Here in London, even if the library didn't have any articles on record, the librarian herself should have heard of one or two stories personally. It was now the Inspector's tentative belief that, for whatever reason, the secret war didn't exist here. Aside from the apparent inexistence of the Millennium Earl, everything else seemed to be the same. Well, as "same" as it _could_ be when it was nearly one hundred years in the future.

He may have found a working theory as to where he was, but the _return_ part was another story.

He had received a basic education alongside his CROW training; he could read, write, and knew enough arithmetic for basic algebra. But this? He suspected this would challenge even General Marian Cross, regarded as the brightest mind the Order had to offer, in both Magic and the Sciences. Even if the reprobate rarely showed it.

A scientist, Link was not. And though he _did_ know the base principles of magic, he was a CROW, not a Magician. They may use the same source, but beyond that, they were two _very_ different practices. CROW magic was designed to be easy to learn quickly, and usable on an instinctual level, without the intense study of complex concepts and calculations required for traditional sorcery. As such, though Link was one of the best, and knew more than most, even he was unaware of the majority of what actually made his spell tags function. It was the reason experimentation was…discouraged, rather strongly among CROW. The results of attempting to invent or alter a seal, when one didn't even know how they _worked_ were… destructive, to say the least.

The blond's search wasn't helped any by the fact that the concept of other worlds, and travel between them, was just as fictional here as it had been in his world. He had been trying his best, with a stack of introductions to the various sciences and a dictionary to his left as he worked through whatever he could find on the theoretical subjects of alternate timelines and interdimensional travel, fiction or non, but he hadn't made much progress.

The ex-CROW didn't have the more familiar route of magic to turn to either, as that was considered even more fictional than other worlds. It was uncommon back home as well, even a library as big as this one would have had at most one or two old tomes of mostly incorrect information. But here there was absolutely nothing. And so, he was forced to continue to fill the metal bound notebook he had lifted from a shop, with notes on the most basic concepts of each science, hoping that they would eventually make sense if he just read through them enough times.

At the rate he was going, finding a way back would take a lifetime, if he ever managed it at all.

Timcanpy poked its head out of its new hiding place, a knapsack sitting at the Inspector's feet, one of the few items he had actually purchased. It made an odd trilling noise and patted his calf encouragingly.

Link rested his head on the table tiredly, and looked over the edge as he spoke,

"I don't suppose _you_ would know anything that might help? You took down the barrier in North America…" he trailed off as the golem shook itself apologetically.

"Right, it could never be that easy." He sighed, before turning to go back to his books.

"I'll have to clean up for the night soon, the library closes in—GAh!?"

The ex-CROW pushed backwards, knocking over his chair as he jumped to his feet in a loose fighting stance, surprised by an older woman with a stern face and dressed in emerald green, suddenly standing in front of his table.

* * *

Among Minerva McGonagall's duties as Deputy Headmistress, personally delivering acceptance letters to the year's muggleborns was one of her favorites. It was always refreshing to see their wonder, upon learning of magic's existence, and their excitement. Granted, there was the occasional difficult meeting that took longer, either due to extreme skepticism, or even fear in the more superstitious families. But she hadn't failed yet, and she planned to keep it that way.

Just yesterday for instance, she had visited the family of an inquisitive young witch named Hermione. It had taken an hour of questions to convince them of magic's authenticity, and afterwards, it had been well into the evening before their curiosity had been sated. The meeting had left the Transfigurations Professor exhausted, but looking forward to seeing were the girl would go in life.

 _Shame she'll likely be one of Fillius's. It isn't often I get someone so eager to learn among my lions._

Currently, Minerva was walking the streets of London near King's Cross Station, on her way to deliver the next letter. She had received the addresses of the students who would need an introduction to the wizarding world from the Quill of Location, before sending it off to address the letters to the rest of the prospective students.

The Quill of Location was a creation of the late Headmaster Dippet, affectionately called the Quill of Acceptance's younger brother by the current Headmaster. It made sending out the year's letters much less time consuming, as she could leave the actual addressing and sending to the quill after she had signed each letter. It was normally very accurate, though there were times when extenuating circumstances confused it. It based the address off of where the child last slept, and so, for example, there was once a muggleborn who spent more time in a pillow fort they had created in their living room, than in their own bed, and the quill had given her an address reflecting that. Normally this wouldn't interfere with her duties overmuch, as she would still receive the location of the house itself, but there were the rare instances, when it gave the oddest directions.

The address it had given her for this child, was one such anomaly.

Mr. H. Link

The Most Secluded Corner

5 Pancras Rd

Kings Cross

London

She was now at the location it had described and was attempting to use a discrete locating spell to take her the rest of the way. Either her spell was having trouble finding the child, or her quarry was moving, as she had originally been pointed to the station itself, but was now being lead into the library down the street. The Professor made her way through the building, weaving through the shelves and up three flights of stairs before the spell signaled her arrival.

She found herself looking into a square area of clear space, framed by tall shelves on each side, with a set of table and chairs set in the middle for studying. Sitting at the far side of the table, was a young boy with two odd spots on his forehead, and blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He looked small for his age, though that might have been due to his oversized clothing, which hung loosely on his frame even with the extra material rolled back. He appeared tired and frustrated, surrounded on all sides by stacks of thick, heavy books, absently kneading his temple as he stared at the spread of open pages in front of him. The aging Professor sympathized with the squint in his eyes, which told her he had been at this for some time.

Minerva slipped back behind a shelf, repeating her spell to double check. Even if it was unlikely there was a mistake, as there was no one else around, it was better safe than sorry. She wondered if perhaps the boy was hiding from someone, as she heard him startle at some sound or other in the distance, before her wand tip again blinked green in confirmation. This was indeed Mr. Howard Link.

The boy looked around for a moment, before returning to his book, expression darkening as he shut it harshly a moment later. He sagged in his chair, muttering quietly to himself, and rubbing at his eyes.

The Deputy Headmistress wasted no more time, and approached Mr. Link at his table, reaching it just as he raised his head from its surface.

She altered the mental profile she had been building of the boy from nervous, to extremely skittish, when he gave a shout of surprise upon noticing her presence, and jumped out of his chair, knocking it to the ground. Looking ready to attack or flee at a moment's notice.

"My apologies, I did not mean to startle you."

He forcibly relaxed himself, looking at her doubtfully.

"Excuse my bluntness, but who are you?"

 _Polite, surprisingly so for an eleven-year-old_ , was added to the list.

"Of course, my name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, Mr. Link, and I would like to speak wi—"

His tense posture returned as he interrupted her, glaring distrustfully and maneuvering closer to where his seat had previously stood.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but how exactly did you come to know my name?"

"That is part of what I wish to discuss. If you would please direct me to your parents? I believe they would wish to be present for this conversation, and I believe you would be more comfortable with their presence as well," she suggested diplomatically.

He hesitated for a moment, before replying.

"My mother is very ill. As for my father, your guess is as good as mine."

Years of teaching and handing out detentions, meant she knew an evasion when she heard one. This boy's delivery was excellent, but she had spent the last two years interrogating the Weasley twins. He may have had a chance of fooling her before, but no longer.

"Young man, you and I both know very well that isn't the truth. Now, where are your parents?"

He took a step back defensively, dragging a backpack with him, from its place hidden beneath the table. Minerva could tell he was readying himself to run. She took a step back as well, giving the boy more space, and kept her professional demeanor firmly in place, in the hopes of putting him at ease.

"They're both dead," he said, a subtle challenge, watching for her reaction.

"I am sorry to hear that, but I must still speak with your current caretaker."

Though she was beginning to consider that perhaps…

The boy now faintly reminded her of a cornered animal, trying desperately to appear in control.

"I don't have one. I manage just fine on my own, so don't bother trying to get me into an orphanage."

He spoke confidently, though with a tightness to his expression that showed he thought she wouldn't listen. His grip tightened on his backpack, and he discretely angled himself toward the clearest path of escape should she attempt to detain him.

He needn't have worried. Saddened at the confirmation of her newly formed suspicions, Minerva sat in the chair opposite him, and pulled the Hogwarts acceptance letter from her shawl. Setting it in the middle of the table, she pulled her hands back to fold in front of her, and looked at him expectantly.

"It seems we will have this conversation by ourselves then. This letter explains the reason I am here. If you would, please?"

In her experience, children, and people in general, were less defensive when they were made to think they were in control. She hoped that by giving him the option to run, he would be more likely to stay and listen. Though she wouldn't stop him if he did flee, she could always track him down again.

The way his eyes narrowed made it appear as if he knew exactly what she was doing. It seemed absurd that an eleven-year-old could be that perceptive, but if he really was living on his own, and had been for an indeterminate amount of time, it was entirely possible he was.

He slung the backpack over one shoulder, and for a moment the witch thought he would leave, but he stepped towards the table and retrieved the letter instead. He arched an eyebrow at her after reading the address, but broke the seal and opened it without comment. Minerva watched his expression and body language as he read. At first startled, and then confused, eyebrows drawing further together as he read, he even went so far as to read the enclosed list of required supplies and schoolbooks. His face closed off entirely as he finished and looked back to the Professor.

"A school? Of… Witchcraft?" his expression was now unreadable, but his dry tone spoke volumes.

"And Wizardry, yes. Formal words for the entire practice of magic in general. There are several subcategories as well."

She kept her words polite, by the way he had zeroed in on 'witchcraft' specifically, it seemed he would be one of the superstitious ones. Minerva settled in for a long conversation explaining how and why the stereotypes differed from reality.

"Why me?" he said abruptly, "how was I, er, accepted. And you haven't explained how you know my name."

Which was entirely _not_ the answer she had been expecting. It made things easier though.

"Those questions are actually connected. You see, when a witch or wizard first shows signs of their magical potential, an enchanted quill, the Quill of Acceptance, writes their name down in the Book of Admittance."

"This… quill, wrote _my_ name then?"

"That is correct."

"And how did you find me?" he asked, holding up the rather specific envelope.

"Another enchanted quill, along with a particularly advanced location spell."

The boy turned the letter over in his hands, thoughtfully.

"How do I know this isn't a hoax? I've met some crazy people over the years."

Minerva had been expecting this question, she hadn't visited a muggleborn yet who hadn't asked it. Calmly, she removed her wand from her sleeve. Pointing it at the fallen chair, it righted itself.

The blond turned to her, unimpressed.

"That's hardly proof, _I_ could have rigged something that simp—"

" _Honk!"_

"Gah!"

He scrambled backwards, away from the large goose that had suddenly taken the chair's place.

"What on Earth—How, what?"

The boy couldn't seem to decide on a single question to ask, as he stared at the bird, wide-eyed. Satisfied she had made her point, another wave of her wand and the chair was once again, a chair. His attention was drawn back to her as she returned her wand to her sleeve, and Minerva smiled at the stunned boy.

"Was that a sufficient demonstration, Mr. Link? Please, take a seat," she gestured at the recently transfigured chair, "and we can continue our discussion."

He glanced at the chair again, warily, before taking the seat on the left side of the table instead.

"Alright, you aren't lying."

She suppressed a chuckle at his caution.

"Do you have any questions? That is, after all, why I am here."

The boy stared for a moment, considering, and the stray thought that he would likely make an excellent chess player crossed her mind, briefly, before being brushed aside as he decided on his first question.

"Do you send representatives to all prospective students?"

"Only those who have grown up without exposure to the wizarding world."

He leaned forward slightly,

"World? What do you mean by that?"

"We keep ourselves hidden from muggles, those without magic. We have our own government as well, the Ministry of Magic. In essence, we exist in a separate world. Though a more literal word would be 'Society'."

"I see."

Minerva waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

"I suppose my next question should be, what is this school of yours exactly?"

She nodded approvingly,

"Hogwarts is a seven-year boarding school where students learn to properly control their magic, and receive education in the five major branches; Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology. There are also several minor required subjects and optional classes."

"It's a boarding school?" he appeared to be asking mostly for curiosities sake.

"Yes. Students are given the choice to either stay on the grounds, or return home during the winter holidays, and all students are sent home during the summer."

He nodded absently, in acceptance of the answer, before his eyes sharpened as he brought up a point that was obviously of a higher priority to him.

"What about independent study?"

The Transfigurations Professor decided she liked this boy.

"Hogwarts' library is the home of the largest collection of magical tomes in the British Isles, I assure you."

That had definitely piqued his interest. He glanced at the piles of books that still lay on the table, deliberating, tapping his fingers along the edge.

"What," he paused momentarily, almost reluctant, "what is your policy for those who… cannot afford tuition, or materials. As you can see, I don't exactly have a great deal of money to spare…"

She nodded in understanding,

"Fortunately, the school is prepared for such circumstances. There is a fund set aside for those in need of financial assistance. You would have to buy some of the more expensive spellbooks second hand, but it will provide enough for the entire seven years' worth of materials."

The boy nodded to himself, mind apparently made up.

"Then I believe I would like to attend. The letter mentioned an… owl?"

"Ah, yes. Owls deliver our post. However, as Deputy Headmistress, I am in charge of administration and can register your acceptance personally. Do you have any more questions about the school, or our society in general?"

It looked as though he did, but a glance at a nearby clock and he refrained.

"I do, but the library will be closing in a few minutes. I need to return these," he gestured to the books on the table, "and my, ah… sleeping arrangements are somewhat time sensitive. Is there a way I could contact you to schedule another meeting?"

"I believe I may be able to do better."

They hadn't been used in decades, not since the days of Gellert Grindelwald, but there were protocols for the temporary accommodation of students lacking their own. And she could not, in good conscience, leave the boy to continue wandering the streets.

A flick of her wand sent the books back to their shelves.

"Would you permit me to escort you to more conventional lodgings? The school has an old agreement with an Inn near here where you could stay until the start of term in September. The Innkeeper is a good man, and he would gladly answer any questions you might have."

The boy, who had been unconsciously leaning forward in interest until now, straightened. Some of the distrust, which he had never completely dropped, returned, and he gave her a hard, assessing look. If she hadn't had experience with being on the receiving end of the art before, she would have almost thought he was attempting to use ligilimency. His face remained blank, but the way he was rubbing the fingers of his left hand together betrayed his apprehension, likely weighing the risks of going somewhere unknown with a near stranger, against the possible benefits, namely, a stable source of food and shelter.

Finally, he stood, and slung his backpack on fully. Never breaking eye contact, he nodded to her.

"Lead the way."

* * *

Minerva could tell that her future student was still wary of her. The entire walk to the Leaky Cauldron, he was careful to always stay at her heel, never straying in front of her, where she would be in his blind spot. More often than not, he was in hers, and even though she couldn't see him most of the time, she could tell he was tense and hyper aware of his surroundings. It was like he expected an ambush. She tried not to think about what might have caused an eleven-year-old boy to become so paranoid.

The sun was beginning to set as they neared their destination, and the boy moved to walk beside her, scanning the street.

"Is something the matter?"

"No… This place just seems familiar is all, maybe I've passed by here before…"

"Perhaps. In any case, we've arrived."

She turned to enter the old pub, and Tom greeted her jovially from behind the bar.

"Why hello Minerva! What can I do fer you this fine evening?"

She smiled in return to the friendly barkeep.

"Good evening Tom, I'm here on Hogwarts business actually."

"That so?"

Her young companion stepped out from behind her, and froze, making a quiet strangled noise that could almost be called a squeak.

"Oh! Hello lad! Nice to see you again. I've been wondering how you was able to see the Inn. If yer here with the professor, I s'pose you must be a young wizard then." He stepped out from behind the counter, and walked towards the duo, "How's yer mum feeling? I hope things have been easier with yer cousin 'round to help."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. The child beside her coughed into a fist to avoid answering.

"I see you two have already met?"

Minerva sternly told herself that she Must Not Laugh, however, she couldn't quite hide an amused smile. The boy was, she suspected, staring at the barkeeps forehead or perhaps just over his shoulder, in an attempt to avoid direct eye contact without being obvious.

"Why yes, just last week. I gave this young man directions to the train station, I trust you got there safely?" the question was directed to her young companion, who now had his hands clutched behind his back and looked distinctly uncomfortable, though he hid it well.

"Yes, I made it alright. Thank you, for the directions."

"Good, I'm happy to hear that."

The Transfigurations Professor decided now would be a good time to step in.

"Mr. Link, this is Tom Dodderidge, he owns the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, Mr. Link is in need of accommodations until the start of term. I believe the Shelter Fund still has enough for another student?"

The question surprised the old man, who blinked owlishly for a moment.

"Well, yes. It does," he turned a concerned look on the child beside her, "I'm so sorry, has yer mother…? But Isn't yer cousin here lookin' out fer you?"

The boy seemed to have regained his composure, and gave a short bow towards the Innkeeper.

"I apologize for my deception, but I have found that it is generally ill-advised to inform strangers that I have neither parents nor guardian."

Tom's eyebrows rose even higher.

"Ah."

The Innkeeper took a moment to take in the information, reassessing the boy in front of him, but after years tending the bar, there was very little that could phase him for long.

"Well, I won't hold it against you. Though if I may ask, why the train station?"

Apparently relieved at the lack of animosity, most of the tension drained from the young blond's shoulders.

"I wasn't lying about being lost. I know the area around the station, and I knew I'd be able to reorient myself if I could get there."

The barkeep nodded,

"Clever. Though while you're staying here, if you don't want to talk about something, I won't ask questions, but I'd appreciate it if you refrained from any more falsities."

"Fair enough."

Tom smiled,

"Excellent, let's get you signed in and settled then." He reached behind the counter for the guest ledger, "Sign here, if you please."

Minerva noted, with some relief, that the boy's hand writing was extremely neat.

"Mr. Link, before Tom shows you to your room. A colleague of mine will arrive within the next few weeks to accompany you to purchase supplies. They will also assist you in accessing the funds for that purpose. You will receive notice a day prior to their arrival by post. I look forward to seeing you at the start of term."

The boy turned to her, and gave a nod of his head.

"I look forward to it as well. Thank you, for both the invitation, and the assistance." He gestured at their surroundings on the last word.

"You are most welcome. Goodnight, Mr. Link."

"Goodnight."

As Tom lead her newest student up the stairs, Minerva took a seat at the nearest table and waited for the barkeep's return.

A few minutes later, he came back down, a contemplative look on his face.

"An interesting lad, that one."

The professor couldn't help but agree.

"Indeed, he is very mature for his age, both in his judgment and his speech."

Tom pulled out the chair opposite, and joined her at the table.

"It makes sense, considering… ah, well." He leaned back, lacing his fingers together and resting them on his stomach, "I wonder how he could have gotten here. When I was talking to him the other day, he said he was from Germany, but that he had moved around quite a bit."

"Ah!"

"Minerva?"

She waved a hand,

"Forgive me, I had been trying to place his accent. It's different from anything I've heard before, but now that you say that, yes, I can see its rooted in German."

He nodded absently in response. He opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. She answered the question she knew he was reluctant to ask.

"I'm aware the fund only has enough for this summer Tom, I'll find a more permanent arrangement by the end of the schoolyear."

"I'll take him for another summer after, if need be Minerva." He offered sincerely.

"Thank you, but I'll try to make sure you won't have to."

"A'right. I wish you luck."

The Transfigurations Professor nodded, glancing out the window, and stood.

"I best be going Tom, have a good rest of the evening.

"You as well Minerva, goodnight."

The witch strode towards the fireplace, taking a pinch of floo powder and calling out her office. In the next instant, she disappeared in the ethereal emerald flames.

* * *

Once the door had shut behind him, Link let his knapsack slide off his shoulders, and leaned against the dark wood.

"Of course, it had to be the same tavern."

The exchange had been awkward, and the de-aged Inspector was glad it was over.

 _What is wrong with me, I just can't seem to stay focused… It's bad enough I'm having trouble keeping track of my surroundings with my normal senses, even when this McGonagall woman was using her magic right in front of me, I couldn't sense her Ki without actively concentrating. With the amount of energy she must have been using… just the amount of latent magic she must have in her core, I should have sensed her coming. Even while concentrating on the books, I should have sensed her as soon as she came within a hundred feet, and yet she was able to approach without me noticing. No, wait. Just before, I did sense something. It was faint, and I had thought I had just imagined it. Was that her? But that's still…!_

He stared at his hands; so much smaller than he remembered, thin, knuckles and joints no longer as prominent, the callouses were in all the wrong places, and his fingers ached from hours of taking notes.

 _Is it because I've been changed into a child?_ He thought of how he had been able to start pick-pocketing again, as if he had never stopped. _Have_ all _my skills reverted? But I wasn't able to sense Ki until just a few years ago… if it truly reflected my abilities at eleven, I shouldn't be able to sense Ki at all, no matter_ how _much I concentrate…_

The ex-CROW pushed off the door and settled into a CROW training stance in the center of the room, fingers positioned to focus his magic. Slowly, a line of spell strips streamed from each pocket, maneuvering into various shapes and formations. Shortly after, he began to add his own motion, running through the basic form of the CROW fighting style, all the while continuing to direct his spells. He was relieved to find that his control over his seals hadn't degraded, either in precision or, after a quick test, strength. But his physical movements where clumsy, and rough, lacking the ease and fluidity he had earned from years of hard practice.

Finishing the set, he sighed harshly in frustration.

"So my seals are fine, but my awareness, Ki sensing, and ability to fight have all been reduced to almost nothing. Brilliant."

A sharp slashing motion from both arms, and his spell strips returned to his pockets. He sighed harshly.

"It makes sense, those all rely on muscle memory or physical training. With the way I am now…" another glance at his hands, "I'll have to start from scratch." He clenched his hands into fists and glared at them.

 _At least, now that I don't have to spend all of my time worrying about food and shelter, and a direction to proceed with finding a way back, I'll have time to fix that._

He was interrupted from his musings by the feeling of something landing on his head, and from the golden swirl waving in his peripheral vision, he had a pretty good idea of what.

"Have a good nap Timcanpy?"

The blond couldn't see its grin, but he could feel vibrations, as if it were purring. Link ignored the golem on his head and set about dragging the blankets off the bed, settling them on the ground next to it, furthest from the door. He felt the weight lift from his head, and assumed that Timcanpy was off to bury itself in the knapsack again, but the pushing on his ear said otherwise.

"What is it?"

Somehow, even without a face, the golem managed to look disapproving. The Inspector could only stare back in confusion.

"What?" he repeated.

Tim swooped down and attempted to pull the heavy blanket back onto the bed, and failing that, moved to behind him and pushed towards the mattress. Link sighed and refused to move.

"No Timcanpy. I'm suddenly offered a chance to attend a school of magic, just as I'm thinking that I don't have the ability to make progress through other means, and I'm provided with room and board? Madam McGonagall and Mr. Dodderidge both seem genuine, but this entire situation is much too convenient. After the past week, if I sleep on that bed, I know I won't sleep lightly. And until I'm one hundred percent certain that this isn't some sort of trap, I refuse to let my guard down."

It growled in exasperation, before latching onto the rolled-up edge of his sleeve, again attempting to drag him to the bed.

"NO, Tim."

Even if he _really_ would like to. It wasn't as bad as it would have been, had he still had the body of a twenty-year-old, but the nights sleeping on hard surfaces had not been kind to his neck or spine.

The golem bobbed in the motion Link now equated with rolled eyes, and made a show of landing on the bed facing the door, alert. It then turned back and gave him a _look_ , if that were at all possible without eyes. The Inspector stared at Tim, trying to figure out what it was trying to communicate. The golden sphere deflated momentarily, before again looking pointedly at the door, almost like a guard dog. Suddenly it clicked.

"You'll keep watch?"

Tim looked back at him again, and nodded, slowly and emphatically. Link huffed.

"I'm sorry I don't have Walker's innate ability to understand you."

He continued to grumble half-heartedly, as he regathered the blankets and tossed them back on the bed. The blond removed his boots and the jacket he had tied around his waist, hanging the latter on a bedpost, before climbing into the bed himself. Still sitting up right, he gave a last hard look at the golem.

"If I wake up dead or kidnapped in the morning, I'm going to blame you." He deadpanned.

Timcanpy fluttered up, and pushed Link's head towards the pillow.

"Alright, alright. I'm going."

He lay back into the mattress, and almost instantly felt himself relax, the soft material a welcome relief from the stone and hard floors of the past week. He remained conscious just long enough to feel Timcanpy settle next to his head, wings folding and tail curling around itself, before dropping off to sleep.

* * *

 **AN** : Timcanpy is taking over the role as mother hen, haha.

What happens when you mix finals week, an uncooperative chapter, and the discovery of an awesome game for killing time during airplane delays? A very slowly written update, that's what.

With the whole Ki sensing thing, since I'm not entirely certain how that works in canon yet, I decided to make Ki and magical energy one in the same, under the assumption that magic reflects the person who generates/carries it. Kind of like handwriting. As for why he can still use his seals just fine, but can't Ki-sense properly, he can. If he focuses on it. He's just having trouble doing it subconsciously, just like his normal awareness. Don't worry though, it won't take him too long to get back into practice.

I had planned to get two chapters done over break, but here I am, three days until classes start again, and only one chapter to show for it. This one was difficult for some reason, I had to rewrite the beginning several times, and I'm still not entirely happy with it… Also, writing McGonagall's point of view is _hard_. Not sure why.

I may need to rework my outline… Originally, this chapter was supposed to include Link's first foray into Diagon Alley as well. Obviously, that didn't happen.

Incidentally, Musiverse is an awesome app. You have no idea how long it took me to get ruby rank on Baribari SOUL, in hard mode, while trying not to laugh at the fact that I was essentially listening to HOWARD LINK _singing_. Shinnosuke Tachibana, the guy who voiced Link in Hallow, also voiced a character named Tomoe, in Kamisama Hajimemashita. I don't watch that show, but I discovered that they have _character songs_. And Tomoe (voiced by the guy who plays _Link_ ), _sings one._ Baribari 's actually a pretty good song too :)

PSA: If any of you ever decide to explore TVTropes . com, follow the advice that I didn't, make sure you have at least three days with absolutely nothing to do, and room to open _lots_ of tabs on your web browser.

Thank you so much to **neah20** , **geme1** , **Snow-Nightshade** , **PrincessWriter123** , **aliceofbaskerville** , and **TsubasaKEI** for reviewing, you guys are Awesome! And to everyone who followed or favorited (there were a lot of you this time 0_0)

 **LeapFroggy out.**


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